


Heart and Lungs

by orphan_account



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, accidental family, bonding with fred, dad hardy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between S02E05 and S02E06. While Ellie is at his house working on the Sandbrook case, Hardy passes out and falls in the river. Ellie rescues him and is determined to get him warm again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart and Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt sent to me by cookie-moi. Thanks babe.

Drowning.

Dying.

How strange that it should be a familiar sensation.

Alec Hardy looked up – or tried to, since he had no real sense of direction – but could see nothing through the silt and darkness. His spasming heart prevented him from moving his limbs. He hung in the water, suspended like a marionette doll.

Perhaps it was only a nightmare. He’d woken up like this many times. But he was missing that heavy burden in his arms, that bundle he’d clutched so closely to himself even as it dragged him ever downwards in the current. 

There was nothing in his arms now.

_So I’m not dreaming after all._

He thought of Daisy. He regretted not trying to call her earlier. It would have been nice to hear her voice one last time, even if it had only been her voicemail.

Something heavy landed in the water next to him. Bubbles sprayed everywhere. He thought he could see something orange, bright as a sea-cliff. Then he was being borne upwards, upwards, and he broke through the surface to suck in a tremendous gasp of air.

*

Fumbling hands were at his throat, pulling his tie free. His collar popped open and he began to breathe a little more freely. His eyes were clouded with silt from the river, but as he blinked he began to discern a face – a woman’s face, with brown hair. She almost looked like an angel.

_Tess…?_

‘Fucking piece of _shit!’_ she shouted. Her teeth were chattering. _‘_ F-fucking _wanker!_ Why didn’t you tell me you were this fucking -’

_Ah. Not Tess._

‘Miller?’ he croaked.

‘Hardy!’ she cupped his face between her hands and stared into his eyes. He blinked blearily. ‘Thank God. Hey! Talk to me.’

He could hear a child crying. The sound awakened something instinctive in him and he sat up.

‘Woah! Woah, take it easy!’ Ellie exclaimed. She pushed him back down and pressed two fingers to his throat. ‘Just stay still for a moment.’

‘Fred. Y’have to get Fred,’ Hardy mumbled. ‘Fred’s crying.’

Ellie looked over her shoulder and called something comforting to her son. The toddler was watching them with his big blue eyes, looking frightened.

‘Hardy, listen to me – your heart. Do I need to call an ambulance?’

He shook his head. ‘No. It passed. They always pass.’

‘Are you sure? Because I’ll fucking kill you if you die on me.’

A weak, perverse laugh escaped him. Her fingers were still pressed against his throat, and once she had satisfied herself that he wasn’t going into cardiac arrest, she allowed him to sit up. He was shaking badly and turning blue from the cold.

‘I need to get you warm,’ Ellie said. ‘Can you stand?’

He nodded. Ellie hooked his arm around her shoulder and bore him upwards. She guided him carefully inside and took him to the shower, where she turned the tap on full blast.

‘No,’ Hardy said weakly. ‘Not the water. Don’t make me go back in the water.’

His protests fell on deaf ears, for Ellie promptly shoved him under the warm jet. He crumpled into a ball in the bottom of the cubicle, still fully clothed, and sat there miserably, shivering.

Stripping off her wet clothes, Ellie quickly went to get Fred. She brought him inside, firmly closed the door and comforted him before returning to Hardy’s side.

‘Hey,’ she said. She knelt at his side. ‘You alive?’

He nodded.

‘Good. Get your clothes off.’

‘No.’

She was already pulling them off. He clutched at them.

‘For God’s sake, Hardy!’ she snapped, and he accepted defeat. She let him keep his pants on, however.

‘I’m going to get you a change of clothes,’ she told him. ‘Stay here.’

‘Nn… I don’t need you to…’ he protested, but she was gone.

To prove he was all right, Hardy got determinedly to his feet. He braced one arm against the wall and let the hot water revive him. It was nighttime, and the river had been bitterly cold. Miller had jumped in too, he thought regretfully. She must be freezing.

Ellie returned with clothes. ‘Here, let’s get you out.’

‘Don’t need… your help,’ he began.

‘Oh shut up, yes you do.’ She shut the water off and eased him out of the shower.

‘I don’t need – m’fine,’ he began, trying to extricate himself from her grip.

‘No, you’re not fine you stupid arsehole, you had a heart attack and nearly drowned, now lean on me!’

He slumped against her. ‘Wasn’t a heart attack,’ he pointed out peevishly.

‘Well whatever it was it nearly fucking killed you.’

She dumped a big fluffy towel on his back and rubbed him down. ‘I can do it. I can do it!’ he said.

She relented and let him take over. Grateful that he had at least kept a shred of dignity by keeping his pants on, he turned around and dried himself.

‘M’okay. You can leave,’ he said.

Ellie did not move. She folded her arms.

‘Let me get changed,’ he protested.

‘I’m staying right here.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll probably slip and break your neck if I leave you alone!’

‘At least turn around.’

She gave him that, and he started pulling his clothes on. She had put out the warmest, softest things he owned – flannel pyjama pants, grey shirt, blue sweater, fluffy socks – but he noticed that in her haste she had forgotten boxers. Or perhaps she hadn’t fancied rummaging through his underwear drawer. He blushed at the very thought.

‘You all right?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ he said, aggravated. His hands were shaking badly as he pulled the clothes on, but not from the cold. He recognised it as a symptom of something else and bunched them into fists.

‘Good?’ Ellie asked once she heard him stop moving.

‘Good,’ he replied.

She turned around. She had a blanket in her arms and she wrapped it around him.

‘You’re cold,’ Hardy said. She was shaking too. She’d taken off most of her wet things but she was still dripping and shivering.

‘Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you settled first.’

She guided him to the sofa and sat him down, then threw another blanket over him. A steaming cup of tea was shoved under his nose and he clamped both hands around it.

‘Thanks,’ Hardy muttered.

‘Are you sure I don’t need to call an ambulance?’

‘No.’

‘Or I could drive you in for a check up. Just to be sure…’

‘It won’t help,’ Hardy said. ‘I’ve tried to talk to them about the increase in my symptoms before. There was nothing they could offer me.’

She looked at him with such concern that he could barely meet her eye. A violent spasm rocked her body and she shivered.

‘I need to do the same for myself,’ Ellie said, her teeth chattering. ‘Can you watch Fred?’

‘Yeah. Take whatever clothes you need,’ Hardy added.

She accepted his invitation and pilfered some things from his cupboard. The bathroom door shut and he heard the water turn on.

Fred had been sitting in the corner all this time, peeping over the arm of the couch. Once his mother left the room, he began crying again. Hardy rose unsteadily to his feet.

‘Hey. Hey,’ he said softly. He knelt at the boy’s side, curling up to make himself look smaller. Fred huddled, shying away from him. ‘Hey, it’s all right.’

‘Mum,’ the boy said. ‘Want Mum.’

‘I know you do. She’s just in the next room having a shower. She’ll be out soon.’

Fred continued to sob quietly, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Hardy eased himself on the ground and sat cross-legged. His knees cracked tremendously and he suppressed a groan.

‘It’s all right my wee lad, it’s all right,’ he went on gently. His masculine brogue appeared to have an almost hypnotic effect on the boy, so he kept talking. ‘Sorry about all that before. I gave you and your mum a terrible fright, didn’t I?’

The tears slowly trickled to halt. Fred sniffed.

‘I don’t even know how it happened. One minute I was looking at the river, the next…’ he paused. ‘It was lucky your mum was here to save me, huh?’

‘Mum,’ agreed Fred, touching Hardy’s knee.

Hardy looked around his little blue house. It was cluttered and messy. Ellie had thrown Sandbrook files everywhere and stuck up a great wall of evidence. Hand-written post-it notes were stuck here and there, and Fred's toys and other supplies were tossed about too. He couldn't look anywhere without being reminded of her influence and how she'd so violently disrupted his solitary existence. He turned to Fred and stroked his hair.

‘There are times when I don’t know what I’d do without her,’ Hardy went on. He continued to smooth the curls from Fred’s face. Apart from his blue eyes, he was the spitting image of his mother. ‘You look a lot like her,’ he commented. ‘Don’t think you’ve inherited her temper, though.’

‘Awec,’ Fred said.

‘That’s me.’

Fred was looking at him with some concern. He clambered into Hardy’s lap and sat up so they were eye to eye. ‘Awec sick?’ he asked.

‘That’s right, my wee lad. Uncle Alec’s sick.’

‘Sick how?’

‘It’s m’heart,’ he replied gloomily. ‘I’ve got a broken heart. The doctors are trying t’fix me. Not sure if it’ll work though.’

Fred patted his pudgy hands against Hardy’s stubble. He seemed to enjoy the sensation. Perhaps a part of him remembered Joe’s rough cheeks and whiskery kisses. Hardy gathered the boy up and held him securely. The feel and smell of him was different to little Daisy, but there was something comforting and familiar about holding a toddler all the same.

When Ellie finally emerged from the shower wearing Hardy’s old flannel pyjamas and black coat, she was gratified to see Hardy up and about making dinner while Fred followed at his heel, chattering and tripping him up at every turn in his attempts to help.

‘Mummy!’ Fred said. Ellie swept him up and smothered him in kisses.

‘I’m sorry about before, darling. Did we scare you?’

He nodded. ‘Awec’s sick,’ he said seriously.

‘I know,’ she replied, shooting a glance at Hardy. He shrugged the blanket a little more closely around himself and stirred the baked beans on the stove.

‘Can you fix him?’ Fred asked.

‘Me? No sweetheart. Only doctors can fix sick people.’

He thought about it for a moment. Hardy smoothly served up a plate of beans on toast with runny eggs and Fred squealed with delight. Once Ellie had him set up and tucking in at the table, she turned to Hardy in the kitchen.

‘Let me do the rest,’ she said, trying to take the frying pan from Hardy.

He dodged and ducked out of her grip, pointedly plunging more toast for them.

‘You shouldn’t be up and about.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Hey. Rest. Let me take care of you.’

‘M’not an invalid,’ Hardy said.

Ellie squinted at him. Her hand shot out and closed around his wrist. Pressing two fingers against his pulse, she started the egg timer and counted carefully.

‘Miller,’ he said in aggravation.

She ignored him and kept counting. A minute passed and she said, ‘hm. Well, I guess you’re okay for now.’

She did not let go of his wrist.

‘Are you going to see a doctor for your condition?’

‘It’s not a condition.’

‘Hardy, I am this close to kicking you in the balls,’ she growled, her fingers digging into his wrist. ‘Are you seeing someone about your heart or do I need to drag you to someone kicking and screaming?’

A long moment of silence dragged by.

‘M’going in for a pacemaker operation in a few days.’

She blinked. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I’m telling you now.’ He added, ‘the toast is burning.’ She realised she was still holding his hand and released him with a jolt. Hardy salvaged their dinner.

‘What day?’ she asked, biting her lip.

Hardy had his back to her as he finished plating up. He replied, ‘Friday.’

The operation was actually on the Wednesday, but he didn’t want her to come and sit with him – didn’t want to run the risk of dying in front of her. She had suffered enough. She didn’t need to see that.

‘Are you… are you all right with everything?’

He nodded.

‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘Salt and pepper?’

‘What?’

‘D’you want salt and pepper?’

‘Oh. Uh. Yes. Please.’

He duly complied and handed her plate to her. Taking his own, he went and sat down at the table next to Fred. Ellie joined him.

‘M’sorry it’s not more fancy,’ he sighed. ‘If I’d known you were staying over again tonight I would’ve bought more.’

‘No. This is fine. Isn’t that right Fred?’

Fred, who was smearing sticky yolk all around his mouth, smiled widely.

‘Least it’s not salad,’ she said. Her nose scrunched up a little as she said it.

‘You don’t like salad?’ Hardy asked.

‘Not my favourite, no. I much prefer something like this.’ She dunked her toast in the runny eggs and took a bite.

Hardy hummed. ‘Least I did something right tonight.’

It was odd, the three of them having dinner like this. Something twinged in Hardy’s chest and he recalled another time, another woman, another toddler – almost another life, so far away now.

Afterwards, Ellie set Fred up with an arts and crafts kit she’d brought in her Mum bag. In the meantime, she argued with Hardy over who would wash the dishes.

‘Will you sit down,’ she snapped as Hardy swiped for the plate. ‘Rest. You’ve been through enough.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ Hardy insisted. ‘Let me help you.’

The argument threatened to turn into a physical fight. At last, they agreed to clean up together. Ellie washed and Hardy dried.

‘Where’s the operation happening?’

‘Broadchurch general.’

‘Who’s the surgeon?'

‘Miller,’ he said tiredly.

‘Are you worried about it?’

‘No,’ he replied.

Ellie turned and looked at him. Suds dripped from her hands onto the floor. ‘You’re lying.’

‘It’s routine surgery,’ he said.

‘I’m coming to sit with you,’ she said.

He congratulated himself on having the foresight to tell her the wrong date. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to.’

‘Court’ll be on that day. You shouldn’t miss it.’

‘They can miss me for one day.’

‘Mkay then.’

‘What time?’

‘Eleven.’

‘Do you need a ride?’

‘Got a taxi booked already.’

‘Okay. Okay,’ she nodded to herself, cementing the plan in her mind.

One of the long, floppy sleeves of Hardy’s coat slipped down Ellie’s arm and hit the dishwater.

‘Ew,’ she said. She held out her sopping hands to Hardy. ‘Can you roll me up?’

‘Oh. Yeah.’

Hardy gently rolled up the sleeves and secured them. His fingers were still a little shaky and non-compliant; he had to concentrate to keep them steady.

‘Thanks,’ said Ellie, turning around. ‘I feel a bit daft in your clothes. Black’s never been my colour.’

‘You should bring some clothes to leave here,’ Hardy suggested. ‘Next time. Leave whatever you need. Toothbrush. PJs. Stuff for Fred.’

Ellie blushed. She handed him a dripping plate and he dried it with the dish towel. ‘When you say it like that it almost sounds like we’re…’

She did not finish the sentence.

‘I’ve got a spare key somewhere too. I should give it to you,’ Hardy mused.

'Okay, now it  _definitely_ sounds like we're...'

'Partners.'

'Partners?'

'Detective partners, working a case,' Hardy said patiently. 'As long as all the evidence is here, you should have access whenever you need it. And,' he went on as he carefully stacked the plates in the cupboard, 'as long as you can't move into your house and you can't stand your shit flat, you're welcome to stay here. You and wee Fred, whenever you need.'

'That's good to hear. I sort of moved in without your permission.'

'S'okay. I don't mind.'

They finished cleaning up. As Ellie wiped down the bench, Hardy said:

'I think I might try giving Daisy a call.'

'Good idea,' Ellie said. 'I'll finish here.'

'Kay.' He went to leave, but realised he had forgotten something. 'Oh. Um. Miller?’

She turned to him. Her half-dry hair was curling softly around her ears. His baggy clothes hung off her. It was such a tortuously domestic image that he winced at the hit. Her, in his house, wearing his clothes, still warm from the shower, while their – no, wait, _her_ – toddler played in the corner of the room...

He shook his shoulders and cleared his throat. Addressing the floor, he muttered, ‘thanks. For… nnh. Y’know. Saving me.’

Ellie said something about him being daft and pushed him out of the kitchen. ‘Go and call Daisy.’

Hardy went outside and sat down on the chair by the river.

‘You don’t need to leave the house!’ she called after him.

He waved his hand, drew the blankets tightly around himself and dialled Daisy’s number.

To his pleasure and surprise, she answered. ‘Hey Dad. What’s up?’

A huge smile spread over his face. He made eye contact with Ellie, who was watching him with an eagle eye through the window as she fussed with Fred, and almost impossibly, looking at her made his smile grow wider.

‘Hi, darlin’.’

*

His conversation with Daisy lasted about an hour, until she informed him that she had school tomorrow. Hardy tactfully said goodbye, though not before he had gotten out three “I love yous” and Daisy had growled at him for being soppy. Feeling much better, he came inside.

‘Awec!’ Fred exclaimed. The toddler had evidently been waiting to pounce, for he barrelled into Hardy at once.

‘Oof!’ Hardy said. He was still in a good mood from speaking to Daisy so the move failed to exasperate him. ‘Careful, my wee lad.’

Fred tugged his trousers. He knelt next to the boy.

‘What is it?’

Fred held out something to him.

‘Um – Fred and I made you something,’ Ellie explained, and Hardy realised it was a bracelet he had put together with his craft kit. ‘For good luck. He thought – well, he said even if he’s not a doctor, he still wants to have a go at fixing you.’

Fred was having some difficulty fastening the homemade bracelet on Hardy’s wrist. Ellie reached over and tied it. Fred looked enquiringly at Hardy with his wide blue eyes. Joe’s eyes.

‘Better?’ he asked.

Hardy touched the gift. It was soft and poorly made, woven from crisscrossing orange and blue strands of wool that Ellie had helped him plait. ‘Yeah,’ Hardy replied. A lump rose in his throat. ‘Yeah. You know what, Fred? I think this has made me all better.’

Fred stretched out his fat arms and Hardy hugged him. He was a ridiculously affectionate little fellow, and Hardy was really beginning to love him, not just as the son of someone he cared for, but for his own personality and charm.

With that, Ellie concluded that it was Fred’s bedtime. Fred, who had been waiting up for his Uncle Alec with drooping eyes, agreed. He clambered eagerly into Hardy’s own bed, which he had occupied the previous night when Hardy had been absent. Ellie and Hardy glanced at each other.

‘S’okay. You and Fred can sleep there tonight. I’ll go on the sofa,' Hardy said generously.

‘Are you sure? After your episode, I don’t think…’

Fred was already settled and demanding a goodnight kiss. After a few seconds’ more hesitation, Ellie gave up and left him where he was. She kissed him and told him she loved him, even more than chocolate.

‘Night night,’ said Fred. He waved his pudgy hand at Hardy. 'Night night.'

‘Goodnight, Fred,’ Hardy said gruffly. ‘And thank you.’

They turned off the light and left Fred there. Ellie stretched until her back cracked and checked on the wet clothes she had hung up to dry.

‘I hope these dry by tomorrow. The last thing I want is to be caught sneaking across town wearing DI Alec Hardy’s clothes. Half the town already thinks we're shagging. We don't want to add any more fuel to the fire.’ She turned around and saw Hardy was staring at Fred’s bracelet, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the strands. ‘I hope you don’t think it’s too silly,’ she said self-consciously.

He shook his head.

‘You don’t need to wear it,’ she added. ‘It’s just to keep Fred happy.’ She started forward. ‘Here, I can -’

Hardy leapt back and clutched his hand protectively to his chest. A little growl escaped him.

‘Or you can keep it,’ Ellie said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. A smile plucked at her mouth. ‘I was going to work on Sandbrook a little more if you want to help me.’

He nodded and sat down. She began to pull out files, but kept getting distracted.

‘You’re shivering.’

He was. He hadn’t noticed while he was talking to Daisy, but sitting outside had allowed the cold to work its claws back into him.

‘I _said_ you shouldn’t sit outside,’ she snapped.

She got some more blankets from the cupboard and dumped them on top of him. He made a noise of protest. ‘I don’t need -’

Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, closing over the bracelet. She found his pulse and looked at her watch.

‘Miller, I _don’t need…’_

‘Shut up.’

If he weren't enjoying the sensation of her holding his wrist so much, he might have fought her. As it was, he sat in sullen acquiescence.

The minute dragged on. Ellie sniffed. Hardy thought nothing of it until she sniffed again, and he noticed her eyes were rather moist.

‘Miller?’ he murmured.

She stopped timing but did not let go of his wrist. The fingers slipped until she was holding his hand, her thumb pressed against his palm. She stared at the ground.

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘You would have died if I wasn’t here today.’

She kept her gaze fixed on he ground and gripped his hand a little tighter.

‘I’m sure I would’ve been all right,’ Hardy said. ‘Wouldn’t’ve been the first time I’ve crawled out of a river half-dead.’

She started to cry.

‘Oh,’ he said in alarm. ‘No, I -’

‘I know you’re worried about the operation,’ she said. ‘You get so quiet about it, but I can see you’re worried. And if you're worried, then it means -' she bit down on the words. 'Promise me you’ll make it through.'

‘What good will that do?’

‘Promise me!’

‘Okay. Okay, I promise. I'll make it through.'

‘Good,’ she nodded. ‘Good.’

Hardy regarded her curiously. She was still holding his hand, almost as if she loved him.

A tremor went through Hardy. The sensation brought Ellie back to reality and she got up. ‘Do you have heating here?’ she asked.

‘No. No air conditioning either. Rental company forgot to mention it.’

Ellie inhaled and exhaled slowly. She marched over to him. ‘Lie down.’

‘Why?’

‘Do it.’

‘No.’

‘I’m getting you warm one way or another,’ she said savagely. ‘Now lie down.’

Hardy did so, and spread himself along the sofa. To his surprise, Ellie clambered on next to him.

‘What are you…?’

‘I’m not having you get sick a week out from your pacemaker operation all because I didn’t know you were having episodes and liable to pass out in rivers.’

He sagged. ‘Miller, that is not on you.’

‘No, it’s on _you_ for not telling me.’ She wedged herself behind him so she was flush against the cushions. She wrapped Hardy up, pulled the blankets over them and squeezed him tight.

There was silence. ‘I don’t mean to complain,’ Hardy said, ‘but if anyone should be the big spoon…'

‘Shut up. And don’t you _dare_ tell anyone about this.’

‘Who am I gonna tell? I’ve got no friends besides you.’

‘I’m not a friend, I’m a colleague.’

‘You're going above and beyond what I would expect from a work colleague.’

‘Maybe if you were less of a wanker, your colleagues would be nicer.’

‘Maybe if my colleagues would _let_ me be nice to them, I’d be less of a wanker,’ he said pointedly.

Ellie puffed out her cheeks. Defeated, she was left with no other recourse than to pinch his nipple. Hardy yelped.

‘Serves you right.’

They fell silent for a little bit.

‘I am warming up,’ Hardy admitted.

‘Your toes are like fucking icicles,’ Ellie groaned as she tentatively covered his feet with hers. ‘Where’d those socks I put out for you go?’

‘They got wet when I was outside.’

She muttered something into his ear that ended in ‘knob.’ Eventually she seemed to decide that as long as they were spooning, she should try to be civil.

‘So. Um. How’s Daisy?’

‘Good. Really good. She just got voted captain of her debating team at school.’

‘Debating? Really? That’s worrying. A teenager who’s learning how to argue?'

‘And excelling at it, apparently.’

‘Makes me grateful that Tom’s obsessed with football. I might have to deal with stinky shorts, but at least he can’t think of any comebacks better than a grunt.’ The merriment in her voice faded. ‘At least… I mean, I _used_ to have to deal with stinky shorts.’

Hardy found the hands around his waist and squeezed. ‘You’ll get him back, Ellie.’

‘How did you ever cope with being separated from Daisy for so long?’ she asked. ‘It’s only been a few months and I feel like I’m being ripped in half.’

‘I know. I know, shhh…’

‘I miss him so much. It hurts. Constantly.’ Her voice broke. ‘It hurts so much. I just want it to stop hurting.’

A barrage of sobs wracked her. Alarmed, Hardy rolled over and looked at her. He shuffled back to give her a little more room on the narrow couch and touched her face, stroking her curly brown hair.

‘Hey. Hey. It’s all right.’

‘He’s getting so big,’ she wept. She wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. ‘He’s growing up – and I’m _missing_ it. I want him back. I just want my little boy back.’

Hardy pulled her towards him and she buried her face in his chest.

‘I know. I know,' Hardy sighed. 'Believe me, I know.’ He paused. ‘I wish I could say something to comfort you, but all I can say is – it’s hell. I know what you’re going through, and it’s hell.’

Her sobs became a little less violent. ‘It is – sort of – comforting,’ she hiccoughed. ‘At least to know – I’m not alone. At least – one person understands.’

The intimacy of their position hit her and she flushed, but she did not fight it. Sniffing, she gave into it and relaxed into him with a soft exhale. For several minutes, they simply held each other, somehow making a perfect whole out of their two imperfect halves.

‘I saw you smile today,’ Ellie snuffled once her eyes had dried.

‘Mm?’

‘When you were talking to Daisy. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.’

‘I’ve smiled in front of you before,’ he objected.

‘Hm. No. Well, yes, but you were drunk, so I wouldn’t count it. And technically you were smiling in front of – of - ’

‘Of Joe,’ he finished in resignation.

'Nn.'

The memory sparked something else in her. She picked at the fabric of his shirt.

‘Hardy.'

‘Yeah?’

‘When you found Pippa… and I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it – but how close did you actually get to drowning?’

‘Pretty close. Got treated for fluid on the lungs. Breathing was shot for a while. Should’ve taken time off, but I wanted to work. Sort of sent me spiralling health-wise. That and all the strain after losing Tess and Daisy was what made my heart…’

'Is it why you're afraid of the water?'

'One of the reasons.'

She could read his expression and saw back in time, back to his childhood. She wondered what had happened, but did not have the chance to ask.

‘I couldn’t let her go,’ Hardy said softly. ‘Even when I was drowning, I couldn't let her go. I thought I could save her. I thought if I could just get her out of the water - even though she was all - then maybe...'

He gritted his teeth as the memories crashed through him, his lungs shuddering. Tears forced their way from his eyes. 

‘Oh, Hardy,’ she whispered. She ran her fingers through his dark hair and soothed him.

‘She was so little,’ he said brokenly. ‘She was so little, Ellie. But the water made her so heavy…’

She understood that he carried Pippa with him even now. She hoped he might be able to set down that burden one day, or at least let her carry it, just for a little bit. She continued to stroke his hair.

‘I’m sorry I brought it up,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t help thinking… after you told me that story, I realised you would’ve died to save her.’

Hardy pulled back so he could look into her eyes. Her fingertips brushed his whiskery cheek.

‘Joe – my husband – the man I loved – the man I married – he killed a child to protect himself. But you – you would have died to protect a child, or get justice for a child. You would have died for Pippa. You’d die for Daisy in a heartbeat. And Danny, too. I saw you almost kill yourself for him.’

Her thumb brushed his lips. Her forehead crinkled as she studied him, cataloguing the marks and lines and freckles on that asymmetrical, oddly beautiful face.

Her expression deepened to a frown. Her own face has creases around the eyes and mouth from a lifetime of smiling. She couldn’t find lines like those on Hardy’s face – until, with her fingertip, she traced a small, precious cluster. Daisy must have put those faint marks there, she thought, and Tess, before...

Hardy closed his eyes and leaned into her caresses. She printed a soft kiss on his forehead.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured at last.

‘For what?’

‘For being you.’

She gathered him up into her embrace. They stayed clasped together for almost half an hour, until Hardy, exhausted, and feeling safer and warmer and more at home than he had in years, began to doze.

She heard his heavy, sleeping breaths. Careful, so as not to disturb him, she shuffled back and regarded him once more. She felt privileged to see him like this – so vulnerable, so peaceful. He pretended to be so cold and hard and unfeeling, and she’d hated him for that. Now she realised it was only a mask to conceal how utterly tender-hearted and soft and damaged he was, and she loved him for it.

She reflected on the future, on a possible future that might exist for the two of them, and thought of how nice it would be if someday, like Daisy, she could leave some smile lines and laugh lines on that face too.

Printing a second kiss on his weathered, freckled brow, she gently untangled herself from his embrace. He shifted at the sudden emptiness, but a stroke of his forehead settled him once more. Pulling his black coat tightly around her, she stretched and returned to work.

Standing in front of the evidence wall she had constructed, she felt suddenly as if the contents of Alec Hardy’s heart were spread before her. River, bluebells, suspects, Pippa… it was such a mess that she despaired if she would ever be able to make sense of it and put things in their rightful place.

Her fists clenched in determination and she inhaled. A glance at the sleeping Hardy gave her all the courage she needed. She _would_ solve this case, and Hardy would live to see her do it. She promised herself this.

Picking up a box full of interview transcripts, she got to work. Hardy, meanwhile, slept on unawares at her side, a blue and orange bracelet fastened close against his unsteady pulse.


End file.
